


Strings of Fate and Games of String

by dancer4813



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Champion of the Raven Queen, Post-Canon, Strings of Fate, Vox Machina campaign, basically Vax and his Queen are finally starting to be friends, not discussed are the potential ramifications of playing with the threads of the living, read into it what you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancer4813/pseuds/dancer4813
Summary: The Raven Queen and her Champion speak occasionally of their former lives, but it's not a bad existence either of them finds themselves in.





	Strings of Fate and Games of String

“Do you ever feel regret?” he asks, after a while. “For something you did when you were mortal?”

Her mask turns toward him slowly, the golden threads draped over her arms pulling away from his fingers where he’d been sorting through them, catching glimpses of the living as she’d taught him to do. 

“Becoming a goddess didn’t change my memories,” she answers, the mask falling away as she steps closer, peering at him. “But time and eternity have taught me that regret achieves nothing unless acted upon.”

He holds her gaze – more than he’d been able to at the beginning of his eternity at her side. In seeing others’ lives through her lens he’d found just how much she could’ve gleaned about him while he was alive. Her probing no longer makes him uncomfortable. 

“Do you feel regret, Vax’ildan?” she asks, her whisper magnified in the void around them, in this innermost chamber of her domain only lit with the glimmering threads of hundreds upon thousands of souls pulsating with life on the Material Plane and the others surrounding it. 

He thinks of his sister, of Keyleth; he can’t not, when he’d been so close to them in life. 

“Sometimes I feel like I should,” he admits, his own murmur echoing around his ears. 

He drops his eyes to his feet, then looks up again, chest stinging where his heart would be – where it was, he supposed, if it was still there – with nostalgia. 

“I suppose I miss them, sometimes,” he says, looking at her again, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes. “Every so often.”

She nods in understanding, and her hand rises to rest on his cheek, fingertips gentle against his skin, neither warm nor cold. He leans into the touch, accepting her comfort, and she smiles a sad smile, almost wistful. 

“I cannot speak for my kin who were created before the Age of Arcanum, before, perhaps, even time itself, but I have found myself longing, on occasion, for the comforts of the mortal world,” she says, still looking him in the eye. “Nothing about my ascendance was easy, and while I am comfortable where I am, on occasion I still find myself missing the taste of pastries on my tongue, the smell of rain before it storms, the sound of quills on parchment, scribbling down spells by the light of a small candle…

“There was a time when I missed the feeling of another at my side, sharing my space and my air and with whom I could share my concerns… But no longer.”

Her other hand reaches out to take his, and he laces his fingers through without question. 

“I’m glad I am able to make this more bearable for you,” he murmurs, stepping closer. 

“Bearable isn’t quite the word I’d use,” she says with a smile. “But it is better with you at my side. You bring your own sort of light to my domain.”

Her thumb sweeps back across his cheekbone, her fingers tracing the curve of his pointed ear as she brushes away his hair, coming to rest on the back of his neck. The weight of it there is steadying, and she pulls him in to press a kiss to his forehead. It’s barely a whisper of lips against his skin before she pulls away.

“I do what I can,” Vax says, unable to stop a cheeky smile from spreading out on his lips. 

“Careful, my Champion,” she warns, shaking her head. “One might think you’re enjoying your time here.”

“For a rather formless eternity, it’s actually not half bad,” he finds himself admitting, and she laughs, deep and full, shaking her head again. 

“Are you interested in training with the ravens? They are crude messengers, sometimes, but I can press my will through them, as I’m sure you shall be able to do, with practice.”

“I’d like that.” He nods, and she nods, and she leads him by their still-intertwined fingers through her domain, past loose threads and past full tapestries and past smaller patches of weaving that have only started coming together. They’re all connected, somehow, and he aims, someday, to understand the order within the chaos of so many lives. 

“Have you ever braided threads together?” he finds himself asking, and she turns back to him, quirking her eyebrows in bemusement. “The threads, I mean. You say they straighten themselves out, but have you ever wanted to twist them together yourself?”

“I… can’t say I have,” she admits, still looking very confused. 

“What about cat’s cradle, or other string games? We haven’t played any games together – I should teach you some.”

“With the threads of people’s fates.”

“Or some extra threads we have lying around,” he shrugs, grinning. “You must have some around here somewhere.”

“Perhaps… Perhaps after we see the ravens you can teach me some of these games,” she says, squinting her eyes as if seeing a part of him that had only just been revealed. “I must admit, the cradle sounds familiar. Perhaps in my last life…” 

“My mother taught it to my sister as a child,” Vax murmurs, remembering watching the rough twine wrap between their fingers and around their wrists, moving in all sorts of patterns. “And my sister taught it to me. It’s not hard to pick up – I’m sure you’ll catch on in no time.” 

“I look forward to a lesson,” she says, still staring at him, lips curved in amusement. “But first – the ravens?” 

“Of course – keep leading the way,” he offers, and they head out again into the depths of her halls.


End file.
